


Mine

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst without plot, Because that's what this is, Gen, Is that a thing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He failed them. He didn’t protect them. They’d be better off without him. But he loved them too much to leave them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> The internet isn’t giving me enough robinpile, so. Obviously I just have to do it my damn self. Damian’s 23. Dick angsting over how much he loves these three is my fave thing to think and write and meta about. Shout out to @bifca for being the a+ robinpile liasion, and putting up with me and giving me these robinpile ideas, like. All the time. <3

Dick sighed as he stood at the counter. So much had happened. So much had gone wrong. The blood and the screams, and the bandages and the panic…

The fact that they almost lost Jason again.

It was all just too much.

He squeezed his eyes shut, ran his hands through his hair and inhaled once more. When he opened his eyes, he reached for the bottles of water, and the bowl of fruits. Swallowed the lump in his throat and spun out of the room, getting to the stairs and taking them two at a time.

 _Don’t think about it,_ he told himself as he reached the upper landing. _Don’t mope. Don’t get distracted. He needs you right now. They_ all _need you right now._

He swayed down the hallway, steadied his breathing. Shifted the water bottles and bowl to one arm and wiped at the unshed tears building in his eyes.

 _Be strong for them._ He repeated in his mind, as he swung around the doorframe, and paused in the threshold. _They need you now._

But at the sight in front of him, his resolve crumbled, and he realized that he couldn’t be. Not really.

Jason was at the bottom of the pile, leaned up against the pillows, flopped out on his back. Bruises and bandages still riddled his skin, but he seemed undisturbed by them. More focused on the weights around him.

Damian was across his chest, between his thighs, on top of him completely. He was muscular, but not heavy, and even if he was, Jason looked unbothered by the pressure against his torso. Seemed to welcome it, even, with his arm tight around Damian’s back. Damian’s ear was pressed firmly against Jason’s bare chest, and Dick knew what he was doing. Knew from experience, and from seeing Damian do it before.

He was listening to Jason’s heartbeat.

His eyes were half-lidded as he stared at Tim, who was curled tightly into Jason’s side, fingers dancing along Damian’s spine, the other hand intertwined with Jason’s at his hip, where Jason was clutching him desperately. Tim leaned tenderly against his shoulder, head angled so he could still make eye contact with Damian, even while he peppered Jason’s throat with kisses.

It was a near beautiful sight, but Dick knew the pain and hurt that spurned it.

Damian and Tim were terrified, had every right to be. They’d almost lost Jason tonight. Almost had him ripped from their lives again, with a few well placed stab wounds and a simple push off a building. But, no – stop. _Don’t entertain these thoughts, Dick, just don’t._

Jason was scared, too, but not so much for the same reason. Was there a bit of a fear of death? Sure. But what was making him cling to those two so hard, kept his eyes closed as he lean into Tim’s gentle kisses, twisted his fingers in the material of Damian’s t-shirt, was the blatant fact: he was scared that dying again would make him lose _them_.

And Jason had confided in him once, that it was his _greatest_ fear.

 _“I can’t- Dickie, I_ can’t _.” Jason sounded so desperate as he paced in front of the bed, where Tim and Damian were still asleep in each other’s arms, and Dick was sitting up next to them. “I’ve…I’ve lost enough, okay? And it was fine. I could…I could deal with that, but. This is good. What we have here? It’s_ good _. It’s_ great _. So great that I can’t live without it. Without_ you _. Without_ them _.” He paused, stopping at the center of the mattress, staring down at the two unconscious. “I’m more scared of losing any of you than_ dying again _, Dick. It’s_ crazy _.”_

And what Dick hadn’t told him that morning was that it wasn’t crazy. Because his fear was the exact same. And he could put money that Tim and Damian felt the same way too.

Dick stepped into the room, absently closed the door behind him before walking around the bed, placing the food and waters on the nightstand. No one moved to look at, or even acknowledge, him, but that was okay. He shouldn’t have been the center of attention anyway.

He gently sat on Jason’s open side, propped himself up on the pillows as he stretched out his legs, and joined the others’ fingers along Damian’s back. Damian didn’t move, at least not any more than to hold Jason tighter, like Dick was only there to take the older from him. Jason seemed to just return the squeeze, and nuzzle further into Tim’s affection.

Tim was the only one who looked at him, eyes darting up, between Jason’s chin and Damian’s head. He looked exhausted, and Dick knew that, of all of them, Tim was the one who hadn’t slept a wink since they’d found Jason. That Jason had been unconscious since they’d caught him from the fall, Tim _forced_ Damian to sleep during Jason’s operations, and even Dick had taken a quick powernap when he snuck away for a shower.

But Tim hadn’t. Hell, he’d barely _blinked_.

And Dick felt his heart drop. Felt guilt eat and tear at his lungs and his soul. This time, he couldn’t hold those dark thoughts at bay. Couldn’t distract himself, not even with the lovers around him.

This was his fault.

He skimmed his fingers across Damian’s back, took hold of Tim’s. Tim’s lips twitched a smile, but it was gone as soon as it came, disappearing as Tim looked away, moved back up to kiss at Jason’s jaw.

But even without the eye contact, Tim still twisted his hand, and intertwined his fingers with Dick’s.

And Dick didn’t deserve that.

Because this was his fault. Because he should have never passed on Robin, never let this legacy continue. Because he loved these three, these men, more than anything in the world, and they kept getting hurt. They kept almost dying, and he kept _not protecting them._

“Sleep, beloved.” He listened to Damian murmur to Tim, felt the words vibrate beneath his hand.

And he watched as Tim settled his head on Jason’s shoulder – tender, of course, careful of the bandages and wounds – and leaned forward just enough to kiss Damian’s nose. “Only when you do, my dear.”

Dick’s guilt eased a little, though, when Tim acquiesced to Damian’s request. Kept their faces close as he let his eyes droop shut. Dick couldn’t see Damian’s face, but he imagined the youngest had done the same.

So, it helped. Sparked his dying heart a little bit. But not enough.

He could still feel the tears welling up in his eyes, still hear the mantra in the back of his head. _Your fault, your fault, this is your motherfucking_ fault _._

Tim didn’t stir when Dick accidentally crushed his fingers in a sudden twitch. Damian didn’t move when Dick kissed his shoulder, or pressed his face against the cotton of his shirt and inhaled a sharp gasp.

_My fault, my fault, my fault. This pain is my fault._

Suddenly, he felt Damian’s shirt shift. Suddenly, there were gentle fingers trailing across his cheek. He leaned back, glanced up to find two sleepy, sea green eyes looking up at him.

Jason didn’t give him a chance to speak before he was flopping his hand against Dick’s chest. Dick didn’t hesitate, sliding the arm holding him up downwards, locking Jason’s hand in his.

“How are you feeling?” Dick whispered, trying to smile. Jason’s fingers were warm, warmer than Tim’s, but he could feel them trembling. _Maybe to Jason they’re cold_ , he thought as he ducked his head down, sprinkled kisses across Jason’s knuckles.

Jason shrugged his free shoulder, the only body part without someone lying on it. “Better. Now that you’re here.”

Dick smiled. “I’m serious, Jay.”

“So am I.” Jason wheezed, eyes dropping sheepishly to their joined hands. Dick squeezed his fingers, felt the trembles decreasing, and the beat of Jason’s heartbeat shining through.

Dick let his smile drop. Stared deep into Jason’s young, haunted eyes, as he dropped another kiss against Jason’s fingers.

Because he didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve that loyalty or love or admiration. Didn’t deserve it from any of them, but least of all from Jason.

But Jason looked so desperate. Eyes so young, so scared, Dick couldn’t let his own demons drown him. Because he wasn’t there for him, for _them_ , before. But that shouldn’t stop him from being there for them now.

Still.

Gently, he released Jason’s hand, keeping firm grip on Tim’s as he shifted up against the pillows, slipped his arm underneath Jason’s neck. Jason closed his eyes at the movement, and seemed to relax even further when Dick tugged him against his chest, curled protectively around his head and planted a kiss against his greasy hair.

“I’m sorry.” Dick whispered against his locks, running his and Tim’s conjoined hands across Damian’s spine. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

Jason grunted, probably in disgust at Dick’s apology, and its reasoning – after all, he’d heard it before, and hated it before. But he didn’t scold him, or chastise. Just lifted his hand back to Damian’s back, held the younger two as close as possible as he pushed his face against Dick.

“I love you.” Jason said simply, in response. Just like always. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I love you too.” Dick replied, tangling his leg in with Damian and Jason’s, twisting his fingers into Jason’s hair.

“No matter what.” Jason slurred. And Dick knew what the underlying meaning was. _Shut up, Dick. It’s not your fault, it’s never been your fault. You’re fine. And even if it was, it doesn’t matter. Not to me, not to them. I love you. More than anything, whether you think you deserve it or not, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you._

And it didn’t matter how many times Jason said it. It didn’t matter how many times Jason – or Damian or Tim – _implied_ it, Dick struggled to believe it.

Because it was _his_ legacy.

_My legacy. My boys. My fault._

He failed them. He didn’t protect them. They’d be better off without him. But he loved them too much to leave them.

He curled tighter into Jason. Flopped his arm out so his wrist brushed against Tim’s hair. Kept running his and Tim’s hand down Damian’s spine.

He didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve _them_.

But he was going to keep fighting for the day he was.

“No matter what.”


End file.
